


Five Things Mohinder Suresh Wants To Say To Matt Parkman But Never Will (And One He Does)

by gossy16



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossy16/pseuds/gossy16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(December 2007, written for m3secretsanta @ LiveJournal.) You can't lie to a telepath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things Mohinder Suresh Wants To Say To Matt Parkman But Never Will (And One He Does)

i.

It's only a few days from Matt's release, mid-November, when Janice Parkman visits him in hospital to say she thinks they should get a divorce. Mohinder wishes he were more surprised by the news, but he has always found it strange that Matt's wife wouldn't stay in New York to wait, always thought she seemed to take him for granted. He reckons Matt deserves better than that. So, when Matt tells him, Mohinder is mostly just appalled at the woman's nerve and timing.

Having obviously caught Mohinder's thought, Matt smirks bitterly at that. Mohinder wants to apologize instantly for any insensibility, but catches himself mid-"sorry". You can't lie to a telepath. What he's really feeling is a modicum of relief: now Matthew won't be in such a hurry to go and take Molly back to California. He's grown attached to the little girl. So in lieu of half-hearted platitudes, Mohinder shrugs in a sympathetic gesture and says, "We have a spare room, in Brooklyn. You could stay with us."

 

ii.

Matt is on strict bed rest orders for one more week after moving in, and watches much more of the Weather channel than is recommendable for anyone's sanity. Molly and Mohinder both tease him for it, until he remarks on a Friday that all three of them are going to need much warmer clothes if they want to live through a winter in this city. The implication of a Saturday-afternoon shopping trip gives Mohinder instant headaches. Molly is excited beyond reason. If looks could kill, Matt wouldn't live through this conversation.

On the next day, Mohinder lets Molly drag him to Macy's and believes for a minute it's almost worth braving the maddening crowds just to see the look of wonderment on her face. It's a scene straight from a movie, complete with holiday-themed music, lights and ornaments, and even reckless Americans rudely bumping into them at every corner in their rush to complete their Christmas shopping early.

Mohinder gets distracted on their way to the Winterwear section by a strategically placed display of dress shirts. Molly tugs on his hand to keep moving but he tilts his head to the side and - to his own surprise - asks her, "Wouldn't this color look great on Matt?"

The little girl rolls her eyes (where did she learn that?) and asks, "When we're done here, can we go look at the toys?"

Mohinder acquiesces and makes a mental note to mention the solid blue button-downs to Matt when they get home. Then he quickly backtracks in his head - that would just be silly now, they don't know each other well enough. Matthew might not appreciate the thought, so Mohinder shakes it off and endeavors to focus on the task at hand. Big sweaters, warm coats, hats... Multi-colored toe socks?

Matt is out of bed when they get back, and something's burning on the stove. "Hey, how'd it go?" he asks. "Did you find anything?"

And before Mohinder even has a chance to put down the brown bags or begin to answer, Molly is rolling her eyes again and making dramatic gestures with her hands, explaining how Mohinder would stop _every five minutes_ to point out _anything_ in the store that Matt might maybe like. 

Which makes Matt laugh ( _at him_ ), "Aw, did you really? I'm touched."

And Mohinder wants to be offended, go sulk in a corner, or say something like "I hate you. Both. And that," pointing to whatever's cooking in the pot, "smells like death warmed over." But he hasn't ever before heard Matt's laugh, or seen him this amused, and it would seem especially cruel to deprive the man of his joy.

So instead of huffing a denial, Mohinder deadpans, "yes, I clearly missed my calling as a personal shopping assistant."

iii.

On December 14th (it's a Thursday), Matt's transfer to the NYPD takes effect officially. He's expected at the precinct the following Monday at 9. It'll be mostly paper work for the first few weeks, no field assignments yet, but it's a paying job and one Matt knows how to do. Mohinder can tell it's a weight off his shoulders; having somewhere to be, making his own money.

He thinks at some point he should say something encouraging, push Matt to go on with his life, so to speak. If he weren't so selfishly worried about missing Molly when they're gone, he should probably say something like, "hey, great, you don't have to put up with me anymore."

But they're not even friends, he doesn't owe him that. Not that Mohinder has had a friend in a while, or remembers exactly what it entails.

If Mohinder were honest with himself, he would realize he isn't sure whom of Matt or Molly he would miss the more.

Matt doesn't mention anything. Maybe he knows.

 

iv.

They have their first big fight that same week Matt starts work again, while Molly is at a sleepover.

That's part of the issue. Mohinder feels the need to remind Matt that Molly is a target and they shouldn't let her out of their sight any more than absolutely necessary. There could be other Sylars. The Company will want her back. Etcetera, etcera. Matt retorts if the Company's so evil, maybe Mohinder shouldn't be so eager to bait himself out for them. What if he gets himself killed. How's Molly supposed to cope. Etcetera, etcetera.

They've had the conversation before, to lesser degrees. Matt was never sold on Bennet's grand scheme. Mohinder argues these are desperate times. All either of them wants is for Molly to be safe, with a life as normal as can be. But Mohinder keeps running off to Anchorage, to Buenos Aires, to Halifax. Matt keeps allowing sleepovers at kids' houses whose parents they barely know. "Be here more," Matt says, "then you can tell her no, next time."

He keeps missing the point. Mohinder can't explain, Matt would say they're just excuses. But the virus is going to mutate soon or late. There's only so much his blood will do, and there's only so much he can give others. So he has to go, he has to help those he can help, he has to search and he has to find. He _has_ to go.

Matt says he doesn't always have to go. And Mohinder lets the fight escalate, because the truth is a terribly overwrought line straight from a made-for-TV movie: he's scared to death of losing them. 

v. (and i.)

It's 2 a.m. on Christmas Day when Mohinder gets back home from Paris - a wasted trip. He should have expected there wasn't much point giving the lecture so close to the holiday, so far away. Even ill-meaning companies must have some family values. For some reason, Mohinder is relieved to find Matt still up watching TV and putting together a few humble decorations.

There is also a tree in the living room that wasn't there when Mohinder left. By way of explanation when Mohinder raises eyebrows, Matt simply says, "I promised Molly." And there's a new lump in Mohinder's throat (he's not sure where it came from) that he can't seem to swallow around.

He just wants to drop his suitcase and drop to the couch in a heap, say it's good to be home, and god the flight was long, and Matt really didn't have to do any of this... but the kettle whistles and interrupts that train of thought. Anyway, Matt would probably insist he _wants_ to be here doing this and, stubborn as they are, there's another endless conversation when all Mohinder wants is to sleep. So he says something else instead that he's been meaning to say for a while:

"Thank you."

Matt shrugs, pouring their cups of tea. "It's just a tree."


End file.
